Author: 'Nonso John

'Nonso John 'nonny' /nɒnʹso dzɒn ʹnɔ:nɪ/: (noun; uncountable; singular) Scribe.

MERCY

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First, Silence.
Complete tranquil silence.
Much like the peace in his voice
And the extravagant beauty in his eyes
When he spoke.
Blew me away.

Still, Silence.
Feel the time freeze.
See a thousand bearded jaws hit the ground.
Shock palpable. Eyebrows raised.
Like darkened clouds.

Now… rain.
First a drop. Another. Yet another.
Gathering pace. Pita-pata-piti.
Like ice against hard earth,
From a hailstorm out of season,
So their stones against the ground.

He Writes.
My name, maybe. Yours, maybe.
Or perhaps a million reasons why
Why I, undeserving, as I am,
Should, of mercy, partake.

Oh. Steps.
I never thought I’d hear it
Receding footsteps. With resounding eloquence
Speaking calm to my guilty heart,
Leading away my death deserved.

Silence. Again.
Complete tranquil silence.
Much like this peace in my heart
And the extravagant joy in my soul
When he speaks.
Blows me away.

Woman.
Where are those thine accusers?
Hath no man condemned thee?
No man, Lord.
Neither do I condemn thee.

Beauty.
Oh, what beauty without flaw.
Love. Like Mercy unmerited.
Pouring forth from God’s own lips.
Go, He says, and sin no more.

By Nonso

©2020

KING-SIZED

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Get an old basket.
Patch with hay, so it leaks no water.
Then fill with straw to its brim.
Soft woolen sheets go next.
Cotton spread over it all.

Next, situate this in a stable.
Where horses neigh their lullabies
And the sweet smell of cattle-dung
Fills the air.

Congratulations.
You just made a King-sized bed.
But what’s a King-sized bed
Without The King in it?

Merry Christmas.

– ‘NONSO JOHN
(c) 2019

What in the world

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What, in the world, does a plus sign
Have to do with Redemption?
Like, this math is flawed.
Go figure.

What, in God’s heaven, does precious gold
Have to do with street grounds?
Like a mat is, floored.
Go figure.

Dem dey go, dem dey go, mass choir.
Singing Hallelujah. Trumpeters.

Join the congregation.
Don’t miss it.
Because, flawed as it is.
The maths will begin
When this mass is ended.

And we’ll go in the Peace of Christ.
To love and serve the Lord.
Amen.

Nonso John
©2019

Evolve

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Man.
Lord of the earth, unknowing.
Born Heroes; living victims.
Black Panthers scared shitless.
Superintendents gone puny.
Sad.

Man.
So primitive. So common. Like dirt.
As is the sunrise.
Aye, it doesn’t make him, nor the sunrise,
Any less a miracle; any less a beauty.
But then…

Man.
“Ye are Gods,” I heard Him say.
Creators, made He you.
But it’s sad.
You only live as pawns on a chessboard.
And you die like mere scum of the earth.
Who knew the hashtag was truth, after all.
Men are scum, indeed.

Man.
Oh, man.
Pity! PITY!
I mean, you share a last name with Deity!
With Yahweh Himself!
Oh, that you knew thyself!
And, that, to thy sweet self, you be true.

Man.
Do not your dreams whisper to you
The destiny of your race?
Do not your superheroes, your folklores, your movies
Point towards mastery?
And power?
And love?

Man.
Does not your genius, your spirit
Nudge you ever so silently
To rule from the top of the rainbow?
To conquer the sky you’ve agreed is your limit?

Who has deceived you?
Oh, man!
“Evolve, man!
Evolve!”
Eternity screams.
Immortality beckons.

But no. You’ll read this poem, this call,
And just move on.
Sadly.
Oh!
Man!

Nonso John
© 2019

BEAUTY

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Beauty.
There. The name I call you.
When I think of your romance.
The honey droppings you coo
Taking me to heights of pleasure.
Blissing me out.

Beauty.
The colour of pollen sprinkled
On the ovary of my mind.
When You sigh, when You speak.
Impregnating my soul with little You’s.
Birthing futures untold.

Beauty.
It’s the avatar of Your words
Taking shape, casting shadows
On the walls of my beating heart.
Making my petals into wings
Teaching butterflies in my tummy to dance.

Beauty.
From down in the brooks and rivers
All through the scrolls and letters
As the Great Nebuchadnezzer
Witnessed, No book had ever
Recorded Your fullness. Ever.

Beauty.
There. The name I call you.
When I remember Your intimidating love.
Of how Mighty You are in all things but one.
Your need and desire for me.
Beauty without Flaw.
My Yahweh.

Nonso John
© 2019